


These Children Are Broken

by AchievementPal



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Aang is a little OOC and not a great guy in this, Aang/Katara is just a mention, Angst, Anxiety, Author took some bending liberties, Depression, Everyone Has Issues, F/M, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, I don’t know what you want me to say, I get by with a little help from my friends, PTSD, Post-War, aang killed ozai, also avatar power liberties, bad memories, but Toph is amazing and we love her, child abuse mention, katara and Zuko were endgame, suicide ideation, unbeta’d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-10
Updated: 2020-05-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:42:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24115216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchievementPal/pseuds/AchievementPal
Summary: After the war, Katara follows Aang, helping refugees at the Air Temple. Three years later, she can’t take the pressure anymore, and she flees, finding herself in the Fire Nation. With the help of her best friend, can she finally work through the consequences the war had on all of them?
Relationships: Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara/Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 16
Kudos: 362





	These Children Are Broken

Contrary to popular belief, it takes not weeks, not months, but years to rebuild and reunite a war-torn society, and so it isn’t until three years have gone by that Katara realizes. Realizes that she hates everything that she has become. Realizes she doesn’t recognize herself in the reflection the ocean shows her. Realizes that if she spends another hour in the presence of her loved ones, she’s going to melt into the water and never return. 

Finally, the world begins to settle down, to heal, and Katara runs. Gathers her things in the middle of the night, steals Appa for a week or so, and leaves, flying far away from Aang’s suffocating embrace and the now-crowded air temple full of refugees waiting for their towns to be rebuilt. Far from her family’s rising concerns, and the feeling of despair as every one of her friends starts to grow up except for her. She can’t breathe in her own skin, has no idea what she wants, or where she is going, or who she is.

She doesn’t leave any word or note for Aang, sending just one letter before she leaves to her father, so that at the very least he doesn’t sent out a search party for her. It’s unlike her, abandoning her family like this, but perhaps that’s the point. 

Katara doesn’t want to be who she’s become these past three years. She doesn’t want to be that at all.

————————————————————————————————————

She should be surprised when she wakes up to find that Appa has brought her to the main dock of the Fire Nation’s Palace, but she finds that she isn’t. She slides off of the flying bison, pets him fondly before he leaves her alone on the wooden pier, and begins the slow, climbing walk to the palace. 

Katara’s been back and forth between the Nations several times during her duties as Ambassador, and during the Avatar Group’s yearly reunions, but it’s been at least six months now since she returned to the Fire Nation, and she wonders how much things have changed since she left. As she makes her way towards the towering palace, Katara realizes that she is taking deep, shuddering breaths of air, as if she’d been drowning under ice and only just found the hole to the surface. 

Even so, she cannot muster up the energy to smile at the civilians she passes, or to kick a wayward ball back to a group of children as they shout apologies at her. Katara can only shuffle her feet and keep moving, knowing somehow that she will be able to rest once she reaches the top of the hill.

The guards let her through the gates, recognizing her face despite the lack of notice at her visit, and perhaps because of it. Katara doesn’t notice a messenger run ahead of her, sending word to the Fire Lord that Ambassador Katara has returned to the Palace, and that she doesn’t look well. 

She is given wide berth as she walks through the corridors, searching blindly for something she does not understand, one hand haphazardly pressing against nearby walls for support as every limb in her body seems to gain weight. Eventually Katara crumbles, reaching one of her favorite courtyards and only just crossing the distance to one of the stone benches.

That is where he finds her.

Zuko.

The Fire Lord stands in the doorway to the courtyard, dressed casually in nightclothes and a robe. Funny, Katara hadn’t noticed the night fall over her. He stays there, silent and stoic, watching her, until Katara turns in his direction, the moonlight throwing the fatigue on her face into stark relief, and he’s across the courtyard kneeling at her feet before he can blink. 

“Katara,” he murmurs, voice soft and laden with emotion. She takes one of his hands in hers, eyes searching for something on his face. She looks lost, broken, and he doesn’t know what to do. Zuko has never seen his friend like this, despite everything they’d been through. His strong waterbender, thin like a rail and pale to match, clutching for support from him of all people. 

She inhales sharply, her free hand tracing the scar on his face, brow furrowed in concentration as if every movement is an effort.

“I am so tired of pretending.”

Katara closes her eyes, basking in the light of the moon, and Zuko realizes that if she is this weak with the moon’s strength, what will happen when the sun rises?

“Katara, what happened?” She shakes her head. “Come on, let’s get you inside.” He knows he’s made the right decision when she doesn’t fight him on it and instead leans against him heavily as they stand up. To save time, Zuko picks up the slim waterbender and carries her to one of the vacant rooms nearby, one he’d had cleared for her as soon as someone saw Appa touch down. By the time he gets Katara to the bed, she’s already fallen asleep, and he gently puts her down and covers her with the bedsheets before blowing out the torches and leaving the room. Zuko can’t shake the image of Katara, dressed in blue, surrounded by the red, scarlets, and golds of the Fire Nation guest room. 

His uncle stands outside the doorway, waiting patiently for Zuko.

“How is she?” He asks his nephew, worried. The Fire Lord rubs his forehead with one hand and sighs.

“I recognized the look in her eyes, Uncle. I’ve seen that lost look in my own reflection too many times to forget it.”

“I see.”

“I don’t suppose you’d sit in on tomorrow’s council meetings so I can stay with her.”

Iroh grins. “No such luck, my nephew, but I will stay with our Katara in your stead.” Zuko claps a hand on his shoulder. 

“Thank you, Uncle. The first order of business should be getting some food into her once she wakes — she’s lost weight since last we saw her.”

————————————————————————————————————

When Katara awakes, the old general’s face is the first she sees, smiling kindly at her from a chair at her bedside.

“Uncle Iroh,” she murmurs quietly, the shadow of a smile appearing on her face. Iroh had long ago become the uncle to all of them, their band of teenage heroes, and Katara didn’t know what they would have done without his guidance. In the years after the war, he had become a touchstone for all of them whenever they traveled through the Fire Nation, far from their blood relatives. To Katara, seeing his face always made her feel like a child again, a grateful feeling when she’d spent so long parenting, first the children of the Water Tribe, then her brother, and Aang, and everyone else along their journey to save the world. Iroh’s presence gave her the ability to lay down her burdens for a while and just be a teenager like the rest of them. 

“Good morning, little one. Or should I say, good afternoon.” He glances out the one window not shrouded by curtains, where the sun shone high in the sky. 

“Where’s Zuko?” Katara asks, gazing around the room looking for golden eyes.

“As much as he would like to, even the Fire Lord can’t spend his days sitting at the bedside of a friend. I sent him off early this morning to prepare for the day’s meetings, and promised I would check in on you.” Iroh holds out a cup of tea to the young woman, waiting for her to sit up and lean against the backboard before she takes it. “A calming chamomile, my dear. And once you drink it, you may be more inclined to eat something.”

Katara cocks her head at him. “What do you mean?”

“Do you remember the last time you ate something, something substantial?” He watches her try to recall, watches the confusion set in on her features, and nods. “I thought so. I would guess that it has been a few days, at least. It would explain your exhaustion, and… that.” He points to her teacup, shaking despite being supported by both hands, and Katara sighs. “But I do not think that needing a proper meal is the only thing upsetting your balance.” Iroh smiles sadly in her direction, and then he waits.

The young woman takes one sip of the tea. And then another. On the third sip, the tears begin to fall. The cup shakes violently in her hand and Iroh stands up, unfurling her fingers and placing her tea on the night table. As the sobs start in earnest, loud, heaving cries of brokenness, the old man sits on the bed, drawing Katara into a fierce hug.

“That’s it, Katara. Let it all out.” 

It seems like hours have passed by the time Katara pulls back from Iroh, wiping her face embarrassed. 

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” The waterbender closes her eyes and breathes, trying to return the shaky inhales to their steady rhythm. Her eyelids are heavy, as if stones are pressed over them, and a few more tears escape from underneath them.

“I am just so… so…” Katara searches for the right word, wanting to tell Iroh everything she’s feeling, wanting to get everything off of her chest so that she doesn’t have to FEEL it anymore, except there is so much to say and she doesn’t know how to portray any of it actually. How her limbs feel like they’re stuck in quicksand. How she doesn’t know the last time she laughed. How grateful she is that being in the Fire Nation is the first time she’s taken deep breaths in years, how she actually DOES have an appetite for the first time in weeks, how disturbed she is that she’s spent the last several months wishing they could all go back to how things were before the war ended, back to when it was just the group of them against the world, Sokka and Aang and Toph and Zuko, how awful she feels about wanting those times again, even though things were so bad and stressful. And worst of all, the guilt, the guilt that still haunts her from those days, the guilt of how she treated Zuko after Ba Sing Se, how she wishes it had been her struck by lightning instead of Zuko during the fight with Azula, how she wishes she’d never left the Fire Nation and followed Aang away. Katara wants to say all of this and more, to let everything go, but before she can break through the barriers of her mind’s filters and speak—

“... _tired._ ” The word is off her tongue without her approval, and she frowns, forehead crinkling. It’s not at all what she meant to say, and she opens her mouth to explain, but Uncle Iroh just smiles at her again and holds up a hand to stop her. She gets the feeling that he understands everything already, and she relaxes back into the cushions of the bed.

“Then maybe you should get some more rest. I’ll have some food brought in for the next time you wake.”

Katara is asleep again before Iroh reaches the door.

—————————————————————————————————————

When she wakes again, the room is dark, the torches are lit, and Zuko sits quietly in the chair where Iroh had sat hours before, though she could swear through the dim lighting that it’s closer now. Her friend hasn’t noticed her eyes slit open, and she watches him, using this moment to study him for the first time since she’s returned to the Fire Nation, the first time she’s been able to really look at him in months. He’s reading a book by her bedside, squinting at the pages. He’s more pale than she remembers, and older. It hasn’t been that long since she was last here, but Zuko looks like he’s aged years in the span of a few months. Has he been eating? His hair is almost shoulder length now, let down in the evening hours when he doesn’t have to convey the royal image, and without the top knot to keep everything tight, his locks are almost shaggy, and clearly unkempt when he is left to his own devices. A pang of worry flits through her — how can she be so weak and needy when Zuko must have his own conflicts to concern himself with?

Before the usual wave of self-loathing washes over her, Zuko notices her watching, and everything in his body visibly relaxes at seeing her awake. She expects a thousand questions from him, at the very least a lecture, but instead the Fire Lord appraises her, studies her expression, and whatever he sees behind her eyes sets his shoulders in calm resignment. 

He turns the page of his book, and with one last glance at Katara, Zuko starts to read from it, his voice low and solemn as his eyes follow the words on the paper and articulate them into the room. Katara’s eyes widen, but she realizes that she isn’t actually surprised at her friend’s reaction. Zuko has always been able to read her like a book (more accurately than the book he reads from now, tripping over words here and there like he’s unaccustomed to it). Ever since the journey to the Southern Raiders, there had been an understanding between them, a connection that needed no words. It was likely because they were the two oldest members of the group (well, mentally, and she thought of Sokka), but every time they were in danger, or needed to think of a plan, she and Zuko would lock eyes and be able to communicate without speaking. Aang and Sokka used to call it “spooky”. Toph would laugh and call it their “Mom and Dad powers”, and then laugh when Katara would blush and Zuko would yell at her.

So really, Katara is not surprised that Zuko doesn’t make her explain everything, doesn’t push her beyond her limits, and simply reads her a couple of stories before leaving for the night, whispering “Goodnight, Katara” before exiting the room and letting her rest.

—————————————————————————————————————

The next few nights continue like this; Katara, bedridden, exhausted, and left alone during the day with her thoughts and the occasional visit from Iroh, and the nights, Zuko reading to her calmly from a stack of books at her bedside that grows as time goes on. They settle into a routine, and Iroh notes during one of his visits that both Katara and Zuko are looking a little less rough around the edges with each other’s influence. Katara doesn’t have the energy to parce together what he means.

It’s a surprise to Zuko, then, when one evening he enters Katara’s room after knocking and finds the bed, and the room, empty of her presence, the window open and letting the night’s breeze in. A sense of alarm and concern overwhelms him, a fierce rush of adrenaline that Katara must be in danger, before he remembers his uncle’s words of wisdom and breathes through the anxiety, breathes in and out until the feeling flows like chi out of his body — the war is over. The danger is over. Katara is fine. She must have just stepped out for a walk.

Still, his body is not his own, not entirely, and his legs carry him swiftly through the Palace’s hallways until he reaches where he knows she must be, and it’s only when Zuko lands eyes on Katara that his pulse starts to settle, his breathing ragged and loud in the night air.

Katara sits, once again, on the bench in Zuko’s favorite courtyard, the one place where he forbade anyone else from entering, the place where he and his mother had so often fed the turtleducks and hid from his father’s ever-present wrath. He watches her as she sits in the light of the moon, half-shadowed by clouds overhead, its rays giving the waterbender an ethereal haze of blue around her. The courtyard is one of the only places in the Palace that isn’t an overpowering crimson hue, instead full of grass and his mother’s favorite white flowers, and seeing Katara surrounded by a color more suited to her sets the Fire Lord’s mind at ease. He has a feeling that being here has the same effect on her as it usually does on him; every day he curses the palette of the fire nation, drowning in the history of so much pain and suffering, but he hasn’t found the confidence to order someone to change the decor yet. Too afraid some family curse will be set upon him for once again breaking a Fire Nation taboo. 

After a moment, Zuko joins his friend on the bench, sitting far enough away so that he doesn’t bother her, but close enough to be of use if she needs him. 

He realizes she’s waiting for him to speak when he looks into her eyes and sees only patient amusement. _There she is._

“Did you ever hear about the time my uncle and I had a tea shop in Ba Sing Se?” That snaps her attention right to him, and he grins, earning him a shocked smile in return. “Yes, really. Well, you know uncle, I’m sure you’re not surprised in that regard.” Zuko looks down at the ground, sheepish. “I served the tea.” When he looks at Katara again, her lips are twitching, pressed firm together, and he almost doesn’t recognize the look on her face until—

Katara laughs. Full out belly-laughs, hand on her stomach as it heaves, legs lifting off the ground as her body contracts and convulses, and Zuko can only watch in amazement, because it’s the first sound she’s made, besides that first sentence, in his presence, and not only that, but even in all of their traveling together, he’s never heard her make quite this sound. He’s never heard Katara sound so free, and Zuko feels a weight lift off of his own chest. He lets out a chuckle as well, surprising himself, and waits for Katara to calm down.

“It’s not that funny,” he grumbles, watching her continue to laugh at him.

But the laughter doesn’t stop; instead it buckles, changes, reminds him of the sound of Toph’s metal bending, because the laughter becomes something closer to hysterics, and Zuko can see tears in her eyes, confusion on her face at her own reaction. He understands though, as he always does, exactly what’s happening to her, and he sobers and continues to sit by her as the episode passes. Zuko doesn’t realize he’s taken Katara’s hand until she’s squeezing it tightly, like a lifeline in the darkness. He doesn’t know what else he can do to help her.

So Zuko does what comes naturally to him, at least what comes naturally to him when he’s with Katara, and he starts to talk, rambling on about nothing in particular, about a stupid game he used to play with Azula before they both became pawns in their father’s war games, about feeding the turtleducks with his mother, about the way he can’t look at his own reflection without thinking of everything they’ve lost, about the nightmares he has of Azula striking Katara with lightning, again and again until she is a charred corpse on the ground and—

He’s shaking before he knows it, their positions reversed as Zuko sobs into his hands, head down, and Katara rubs his back soothingly. 

“I was supposed to be comforting you,” he chokes out. “Turns out I can’t do anything right.” He punches his thigh once, then again, angry with himself. Zuko is showing weakness and he hates it, and even though he knows he can let go of everything with Katara, he’s always known it, he doesn’t want her to see him like this. 

Katara lays a head on his shoulder and takes his hands in hers, the position slightly awkward with the angle, but Zuko takes comfort in it, even puts a thumb to the pulse in her wrist to calm himself down, and she does the same, and because it’s them, it works. 

It’s only when Katara shivers after half an hour that Zuko realizes that she must be freezing, out in the courtyard with only her nightclothes on, and he tightens his grip on her hands.

“Let’s get you inside,” he mutters, reigning in the urge to say “to bed” because of the connotations it holds. Both of them are barely holding on to their sanity by the looks of it, and he refuses to pull a full Zuko and make things weird. They stand together, Katara giving the moon one last goodbye glance, and slowly make their way back to her chambers. Zuko’s grateful that Katara only wanders around the Palace in the dead of night, as he’s certain that they paint quite a picture, faces both swollen from crying and clutching each other like their lives depend on it. They enter Katara’s room together and he bends the torches alight so they can see. He is reluctant to let go of the waterbender, but he gently pushes her in the direction of the bed so that he can close the window and light the fireplace. He also grabs a thick blanket from the nearby closet, sure that Katara hasn’t the faintest idea that it’s there, and lays it on the bed for her use.

With nothing else to say, Zuko stands there awkwardly and rubs the back of his neck, and then gives Katara a slight bow.

“Goodnight, Katara.”

When he rises and looks at her, he’s shocked to see that his friend is holding out a hand towards him as she stands next to the bed, and for the second time that night, Zuko’s body acts of its own accord. Mere feet away, he crosses the distance instantly and takes her hand, not knowing what to expect. He definitely doesn’t expect Katara to draw him into a tight embrace so that her face is nestled in his shoulder, arms wrapped resolutely around his waist. Zuko’s chin rests on the top of Katara’s head, and despite the fact that she hasn’t been near the ocean in over a week, he can still smell the salt of the sea in her hair, a scent he’d learned years ago to be uniquely Katara. To his further surprise, Zuko finds that the moment isn’t weird, but comfortable, and he tightens his hold around her mid side, hugging his friend back. When at last he decides to draw back and retreat to his room, Katara refuses to let go, instead keeping their hands intertwined, thumb brushing his pulse again. He catches her gaze, searching for something there, an answer to his unspoken question. 

“Stay,” she whispers. Zuko half-thinks he’s imagined it, until she says it again. “Stay.” And Agni, he didn’t realize how much he’d missed her voice until he’d heard it.

He’s never been able to say no to Katara, no matter how hard he tried. So he lets her pulls him onto the bed, and he kicks off his sandals so he doesn’t ruin the bedsheets.

If it were any other two people in the world, there would be some level of misunderstanding in this moment, some level of discomfort, awkwardness, distance.

But this is Zuko and Katara, and there is no misunderstanding here. He knows exactly what this is, as does she, and it is in silence that they arrange themselves, Katara curled into the fetal position, Zuko protectively wrapped around her with one arm over her body, their hands still together. She can feel his heartbeat through the skin on her back; he can feel hers reverberate through his chest and where their hands are linked. They remind each other that they are still alive; that against all of the odds, their hearts are still beating, still pumping. Together, they hope to stave off the nightmares.

When Iroh peeks into Katara’s room in the morning, he breathes a sigh of relief, and smiles as he decides to cancel all of the Fire Lord’s meetings for the next couple of days under the guise of him being under the weather.

It’s the first time Iroh has seen Zuko sleep comfortably in three years, and he’s not going to interrupt that for the world.

—————————————————————————————————————

Zuko wakes up when a beam of sunlight strikes him in one eye, causing him to roll over to avoid it and almost fall off of the bed. He doesn’t remember where he is until he sits up with a groan and sees Katara across the room, legs crossed as she sits at the little meal table he’d had brought in for her when she first arrived. The waterbender delicately uses her bending to peel an orange, presumedly using the water in the peel to unfurl its own shape, and Zuko marvels that he’s never seen a bender as powerful as her. 

Wait, when is the last time he slept until the sun was in the sky? 

“Shit, I’m late! Why didn’t Uncle come wake me? I’ll be a laughing stock before the day is through—.” The Fire Lord’s anxieties are halted when Katara waves a sheet of paper in his general direction.

“Congratulations, Zuko, you’re on vacation for a couple of days. Orders from your Uncle.”

“What?” Only half aware of what’s happening, Zuko snatches the paper from her grasp and reads it, and it is indeed a note from his Uncle saying to relax and pretend to be ill for a while.

Then Zuko realizes, and his gaze snaps to Katara.

“Hi,” he murmurs, a grin splitting across his face.

“Hi,” Katara smiles back. 

Zuko doesn’t want to press things too far, but he holds a hand out to his friend, hoping she’ll take it.

“I want to show you something.”

Together Zuko and Katara sneak through the Palace, using acrobatics and bending to make their way to Zuko’s second favorite hiding spot without being seen, a spot even his Uncle doesn’t know about. Katara gasps when she realizes they’re on the roof overlooking the docks, the view of the ocean reaching out into the distance as far as the eye can see. From here, they can see the war ships, now laden with food and supplies, not soldiers, leaving for nearby towns still recovering from the war, and Katara smiles again at the oddity of sitting on the roof of the Fire Nation Palace, with the Fire Lord, enjoying herself.

They sit on the peak of the roof and Katara basks in the sunshine, still a little out of breath from running around. Zuko, stoic as ever, hasn’t broken a sweat somehow. She peers at him and he gives her a sideways glance, knowing the question she’s asking with her raised eyebrows and cerulean eyes.

“Do you remember the Blue Spirit, the one that used to run around causing trouble for everyone?” Katara nods, and Zuko points a thumb at himself. The young woman’s jaw drops.

“Have you ever heard of the Painted Lady?” And of course he has, the Painted Lady is said to have destroyed an entire factory by her—-

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

The pair settles into amicable silence, watching the passing of the ships and the hard workers underneath them. Though Zuko seems to be thriving in the sunlight, because of course he is, and Katara enjoys the warmth too, it isn’t long before the inevitable draw of exhaustion pulls at her and her entire body wants to deflate. For the first time in a long time, she fights the urge to give in, and starts to speak, her voice low and raspy from disuse.

“The closest I have ever come to killing someone was the day of your Agni Kai.”

_We’ve never needed small talk._

He snorts. “You’re excluding Yon Rha.”

“No, I’m not.”

That earns her a turn of the head, and she accepts his gaze with her own.

“I only stopped myself from killing Azula because I felt your heart start to beat again.”

“Oh.”

Another moment passes, and Zuko decides to bring up a confession of his own.

“I regretted leaving you in that cavern the second I did it. I think about it every single day, Katara.”

“Things would have been so different, if I hadn’t let you leave.”

“Let me leave? You didn’t exactly have a choice in the matter, if I remember. Honestly, part of why I chose Azula is because I knew she would have hurt you, you, Sokka, Aang, anyone nearby, if I didn’t go with her. And another part of me just wanted—.” Katara takes his hand again.

“I know, Zuko. And as much as it hurt, deep down I knew you’d return to us.”

“How?”

Katara shrugs. “There was too much good in you to stay here, in this place.” She shudders, remembering how different everything had been in the palace before the war ended, and Zuko feels her shake through where their shoulders touch. “It’s better now than it was.”

“Not for me.” She doesn’t respond, letting him continue. “It took me almost a year before I could walk down the hallways without seeing my father rounding every corner. Two years before I could even look at where Azula and I had our Agni Kai.”  
Zuko gulps and Katara senses the anxiety rushing through him.

“I didn’t know that.”

“How could you? You weren’t here.” Katara knows it’s not an accusation, not exactly, but it doesn’t stop the pain that stabs her in the chest like a knife. “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded.” A breeze grazes them on the rooftop, causing both of their robes to flicker in the wind, and Zuko’s hair moves with it. Katara’s is pulled back tight, and there’s a sudden desire to chop it all off that she’ll remember later. Instead, she caresses the back of Zuko’s hand with her thumb and encourages him to continue. “When you left, all of you, it was just Uncle and I and the mess the size of Sokka’s ego to clean up. And I was…” He runs a hand through his hair. “I was in no state to lead. I was a sixteen year old rebel with anger issues.”

Katara snorts. “Tell me about it.” Zuko jostles her with his shoulder. “You didn’t seem too out of sorts whenever we visited. You always were a terrible liar, I should have noticed.” 

“It’s alright. There was so much to do, and so many meetings…”

“Yeah. This is the first time I’ve had to myself… ever,” Katara muses. “I’ve always had to look after everyone else and be the responsible one. I thought, childishly, that that would end with the war, but…”

Zuko finishes the sentence for her. “It didn’t.”

Katara hums her agreement. Zuko tries not to comment on the dark expression on her face, but he can’t help himself.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Not today.”

“Okay.”

Zuko takes a couple of apples out of one of the pockets in his robe and hands one to Katara. He then slips a small knife out of another pocket and starts to cut his apple into pieces, only stopping when he sees Katara watching him, and the knife. He looks down.

“I, uh… I can’t feel safe without some kind of weapon on me.”

Wordlessly, Katara slips her own blade out of the folds in her robe, and golden eyes widen as it glints in the sun.

They spend the rest of the morning in quiet contemplation, until Zuko’s pale skin starts to burn in the sunlight, and then they sneak back inside and into Katara’s room. 

—————————————————————————————————————

That evening, Iroh checks in on them, and he’s surprised to find that they’re playing pai sho in the middle of the room, Katara calmly watching the board while Zuko stares at it intently, trying to find his next move.

Zuko is distracted by the mask slamming over Katara’s face as she sees Iroh in the doorway, and the smile that she puts on makes him uncomfortable.

“Uncle Iroh!” She calls out, standing up and running over to the old general. The shorter man appraises her as he brings her in for a hug, sending a questioning glance in Zuko’s direction. The Fire Lord just shrugs.

“I’m glad you’re looking better, my dear.”

“I am, thank you.”

“Here,” he steps out of the doorway to grab the dinner tray he’d prepared for them, complete with a pot of jasmine tea and two cups. “Make sure he eats enough, he never finishes a meal.” 

All of the torches in the room snuff out, plunging them all into darkness, and both Katara and Iroh turn to Zuko. With a wave of his hand Iroh lights the candles again, and without another word, he bows out of the conversation, leaving the two of them alone, understanding that he has made an error somewhere.

“Zuko—.” But he cuts her off.

“Why do you do that?”

Katara cocks her head to the side. “Do what?”

“Why do you fall back into old patterns when Iroh’s around? Why do let him think that…” He trails off. “You said you were tired of pretending.” Katara blinks at him, realizing his anger is out of concern and a deep respect for her more than anything else, and she crosses the room to him.

“This is different. This was necessity.” And for once Zuko doesn’t quite get it. “You are entirely honest with Iroh, yes? He sees your highs, he sees your lows, he advises you, you trust him implicitly.” The Fire Lord nods slowly, not seeing where this thread is leading. “As much as I love your uncle, and as much as he is family, he is not that for me.” Zuko frowns.

“But you don’t pretend for me.”

“No, I do not.”

They leave it at that.

—————————————————————————————————————

The next day, despite his uncle’s words, Zuko is forced to return to work, the Fire Lord’s presence required at a sudden meeting regarding conflicts at the borders of the nations. As the Ambassador between the Fire and Water Nations, he asks Katara to sit in on the meeting, and she does so willingly, the two of them leading the discussion and quelling the fears of the other council members easily with their knowledge and calm affect. After the meeting is adjourned, the two of them end up in Zuko’s private study, and they spend the next several hours going over the wordings of the treaties they themselves had written and established, wondering if there was somewhere they’d gone wrong with their phrasing. 

In the end, Zuko throws up his hands.

“I just don’t get it. I think the treaties state our intentions clearly, don’t you? It’s been three years, you’d think they’d be able to work together by now. Is the Fire Nation so prone to causing misery and fighting that it cannot follow simple directions?” Katara stands behind him, looking through the bookshelves there for a particular scroll, and absently she puts a hand on Zuko’s shoulder in comfort. He places one of his hands over hers. 

“It’s not just the Fire Nation to blame, Zuko. This isn’t the war.” The waterbender rubs a thumb into one of the knots forming at the bend in Zuko’s shoulder. “Things will take time.”

“How much time?” The young man stands up angrily, catching Katara by surprise. The flash of emotion there is not unknown to her — the sense of how unfair it all is. “For how long will the burden of my family’s actions be mine to bear?” 

She draws Zuko into a comforting embrace and he wastes no time wrapping his arms around her. The pair of them stand there until Katara feels the pace of his pulse begin to slow, and the fire licking under his skin to simmer. When they pull apart, shame washes over Zuko’s features, and he slumps into his chair again.

“Zuko.” He looks up at her. “You are not your father.” The Fire Lord tries to speak, but Katara puts a finger to his lips to silence him. “There is so much pain, so much trauma throughout the nations due to the actions of your forefathers, and what are you trying to do? You are working as hard as you can to make everything better, and to put the spirits of the past to rest.” 

“But it’s not enough, Katara.”

“And it may not ever be, at least not in our lifetime.” She sighs, and she reaches a hand upwards to her tied hair, letting it down. The strands fall loosely around her shoulders, and the waterbender rubs her head as if having her hair in that position had given her a headache. “We have been through so much, Zuko.”

“I’m aware.”

“Don’t get smart with me.” The tension releases in the room a little, and Zuko smirks up at his friend. “I’m just saying, we can’t let it all be in vain.” In the low light of the study, she sees Zuko’s mouth open with sudden realization, and for a moment Katara wonders what’s come over him. “You’ve had an idea. What is it?”

“That’s exactly it, Katara. It can’t all be in vain. So we write a plea, to all of the world leaders, to all of the smaller villages, and say just that, that we don’t want it all to be in vain.” Katara’s eyes widen, and she nods slowly.

“None of the officials in actual positions of power want the fighting to occur any more than we do. If we appeal to their sense of dedication to their people—.”

“Hopefully they’ll be more willing and able to quash the rebellions of these part-time bullies before they escalate into something worse.” He points at her with one hand while the other picks up a quill and dips it into his pot of ink. “I always said you were the smartest out of all of us, Katara.”

Her lips twitch. “Oh, did you now?”

Neither of them imagine the blush on Zuko’s cheeks.

—————————————————————————————————————

The following day passes in the same fashion, though Katara is more comfortable sticking to the shadows of the Fire Lord’s meetings. When he’s done for the day, Katara slips away, back to her room, leaving Zuko some time for himself. However, when he doesn’t join her after an hour or two as expected, the waterbender sets out to look for him. Once she feels his presence nearby, she can tell that something is wrong, and her pace quickens.

She finds Zuko standing, of all places, in front of his father’s giant portrait on the wall, shivering like a leaf and frozen in place. Katara’s surprised that she didn’t hear his heart racing from the other side of the palace, is sure that someone must be hearing it loud and clear as day at the Southern Pole. To her, it is deafening in the hallway where they stand alone.

Former Lord Ozai glares down at his son, the painting of him reaching from floor to ceiling and only half as imposing as the man was in real life, which is still enough to set fear into Zuko’s heart. The waterbender draws close to her friend at an easy, observable pace — they learned their lesson years ago not to startle a firebender.

“Zuko,” she whispers, and it’s only a slight twitch in his shoulders, a jolt, that lets her know he’s heard her.

“Maybe I’ve been pretending too, Katara.” She takes another step closer. Zuko is cloaked in the shadow of night, the torches nearby unlit, but Katara doesn’t have to be able to see him to know that her friend is crying. “Pretending to be the Fire Lord.” Katara rolls her eyes.

“Don’t be an idiot.” But fire swells around Zuko’s fists where they’re clenched at his sides, and she commands water from a nearby bird bath just in case. She knows what the power of emotion has done to her own bending, and with fire—

Zuko can see the water ribbons dance around Katara out of the corner of his eye, and his flames snuff out instantly.

“Are you scared of me?”

Katara chuckles darkly, and the water swirling through her fingers falls to the floor. “No, Zuko. I’m scared of a lot of things. I’m scared of drowning, believe it or not. I’m scared of frogs. I’m scared that in your despair and sorrows you might burn down this section of the palace. But I have never been scared of you.”

Zuko’s knees buckle, then, and Katara is there to catch him when he falls. She holds him while he cries into her chest, looking up at the fearsome Former Fire Lord in a fury that would have frightened him had he still been alive. She thanks Tui and La that Aang did one thing right and killed Ozai before he could wreck more havoc on the world; if he hadn’t, she would have done it herself for what the fire bending master had done to this wonderful son of us, for the damage the awful man had done to Zuko’s soul.

Zuko’s breathing becomes an even inhale and exhale, and when Katara gazes down again he is watching her from below, and raising his eyebrows at the mischievous twinkle in her eye. She gives him a shove to get up, and they both rise to their feet.

“Feel free to tell me it’s a terrible idea, but, what do you say we put a final end to your father’s reign of terror?”

“I’m listening.”

Katara summons the water back to her from the floor with one hand, and while it stirs quietly over one palm, the other arm settles around Zuko’s shoulder, posturing them so they both face the domineering portrait, Katara behind the Fire Lord so that her chin rests on his shoulder. Her free arm swings underneath his so that they raise together, aiming their arms for him until they are both pointed at Ozai, Katara supporting Zuko until she feels him take a large inhale, feels the determination in how his shoulders set themselves, and she moves her mouth to his ear.

“Fire.” 

And he does. A blast of flames washes forward and slam directly into where the Former Fire Lord’s heart would be, if he had one, and Zuko keeps the stream of fire flowing until the embers stretch outwards and to the edges of the tapestry, where Katara’s water is waiting to keep the flames contained. 

It should be cathartic, and it is, a little, but there is no victory here, only deep resignment as Zuko and Katara watch the last remnants of Ozai’s hold on the Palace burn into ash. 

They breathe together, then, and it’s as if they’ve been holding their breaths for years. Zuko closes his eyes.

“Agni, that felt good.” He turns around to face Katara, a wicked grin crossing his features. “Are you ready?”

She nods, and they move together, Katara drowning the rest of the paintings on the walls, Zuko burning the nearest scarlet curtains. As the pair of them begin to destroy the hallway they bend in, a sense of manic glee starts to overtake them, and even though it is the middle of the night, the benders get louder with every piece of furniture ruined. It is a physical release, the way Zuko and Katara arc across each other’s bending, reminiscent of the sparring they would do in the early mornings of the old days. Katara yells as the paint of another tapestry melts under the currents she draws over them. Zuko whoops as another section of the red linens that are everywhere, absolutely everywhere, crumbles into flames and dust at his command. 

At each other’s side, it would be almost easier to burn the palace to the ground, wash it away to the sea, and rebuild it with new memories.

—————————————————————————————————————

It is a week later, and Katara is taking a break from supervising the complete redecoration of the Fire Nation Palace when Zuko slips into her room. He has moved on from the crimson robes that have covered him for so long, and settled on black ones instead, complimenting his raven hair and golden eyes as the sun streams through Katara’s window. The waterbender is so focused on her friend’s entrance that she almost doesn’t notice the tied scroll in his hand, almost doesn’t recognize the seal of the Avatar binding it shut.

Katara has no control over what happens next, over the way her body bends the liquid out of her teapot and sends it crashing into Zuko’s hand, drenching the scroll and knocking it away from the Fire Lord entirely.

“Katara!” Zuko does not know what reaction he planned for, but that wasn’t it, and he stares at the now ruined scroll in disbelief. Even if Katara bended the tea away from it now, the ink would still be diluted and muddy, illegible. He turns back to where the young woman from the Water Tribe stands trembling, and realizes that there is more to worry about than a scroll from the Avatar. Zuko hears a knocking and almost answers whoever is at the door when he learns that the sound is coming from the teapot on Katara’s table, the water inside of it shaking furiously.

Outside Katara’s windows, balls of water from who-knows-what-sources are hovering nearby, ready to strike if necessary. In her anger, Master Katara has summoned the liquid from every nearby bowl, cup, and fountain, and the bubbles sway back and forth with Katara’s clenching and unclenching fists at her side.

In those blue eyes of hers Zuko sees a rage that he’s never seen her express before, not even at him, and perhaps stronger than the fury she rained down on Yon Rha. Perhaps because it is not pure anger he spots on her features, but anger mixed with disbelief, with helplessness, with inevitability, and Zuko approaches Katara very, very carefully.

“Katara, can you hear me?” He has been in a similar place, after all, and knows there’s a possibility she does not, but Katara nods minutely. “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

She does, and behind her the water that threatens to form into a tsunami wavers. Katara takes another breath on her own, and then another, and all of the bending that she’s holding drops as she comes back to herself. Zuko takes another couple of steps until he is standing in front of the waterbender, and he waits.

“He won’t leave me alone, Zuko. He won’t just _fuck off_ and leave me alone.” She scoffs, ready to lay everything bare once and for all, and when she sits again at the table, Zuko joins her silently. “I wish I’d never followed him to the Air Temple.” Katara bends tea into her cup and takes a sip, then wrinkles her nose at the chill within it. Zuko lights a small fire under the teapot and Katara returns the tea from her cup to the warmth brewing in the other container. “You know, he never asked me whether I wanted to be with him. He started making all of these plans, marriage, children.” She shudders. “He kissed me, you know, before the end. Twice, in fact.”

Zuko nods. He’d had a sinking feeling in his chest. Yes, he knew.

“But we thought we were about to die, we were children, especially him. I let it pass.” There’s a pause, and then— “The first time he tried to kiss me, after, a couple of months after we left here… I almost threw up. I recoiled so hard I almost fell off the balcony, and then I looked at the ground, so far below us, and thought, huh, it might not be that bad, to fall.”

There’s a sharp inhale through teeth and it takes Zuko a moment to realize that it’s come from him, that he’s now holding his breath, and he lets it out in a rush.

“ _Katara_.” He whispers.

“I never let him touch me again.” Katara stops speaking again, and Zuko thinks that maybe that’s the end of the story. She tries the tea again, her brow knit together in frustration as she remembers it all anew, and mid-sip, her anger spills out again with a sputter. “Do you know what he said? When I told him that I didn’t want to enter a relationship with him?” She puts her cup down, hands raising in the prayer position and a pout on her lips in a mock imitation of the Avatar. “‘But we’re meant to be, Katara! You know what, you just need time.’ **TIME!** ” Katara shouts, and the teapot jumps in place. “Like my words were falling in a void where no one could hear them. No, he could hear them, he just didn’t care. He had this perfect picture of me in his head, and he wouldn’t let anyone crush that dream, even me.”

Under the table, Zuko takes one of Katara’s hands in his, and they fall into their mutually decided form of calming. She seeks his pulse under her thumb, and the steady beat she finds there causes her to take a couple of shaky breaths.

“He followed me around the temple after that. Wouldn’t let me out of his sight. No matter what I did, healing, cooking for the refugees, ambassadorial meetings. Agni, for the savior of the world, he is such a naive little boy, with such a twisted view of it all.”

There is another break, and Zuko thinks, surely, that must be it, that must be the end of Katara’s heartbreaking tale, but no—

“Once, I was healing a little boy with burn scars. He reminded me a little of you, actually. And Aang hovered nearby, as always. When I was done, he crept up behind me and said, ‘See? You’re sooooooo good with kids, Katara! I think you’d be a great mom!’”

The teapot shatters into a dozen pieces, the tea spilling outwards, but Katara sweeps it all up in an instant — the explosion was unheeded, but she can control the aftermath. With the way Zuko looks at her then, she knows there is no need for apologies, and at his urging, she continues speaking, though Katara knows that now, she couldn’t stop if she wanted to.

“I came so close to punching him right there, to bending the water out of the air and using it to toss him out of my way. I have never, ever, Zuko, wanted to use my bending on Aang for real, but gods did I want to then.”

“You didn’t, though.” Zuko points out. Katara scoffs again.

“Because of the screaming in my own head: “Don’t hurt the Avatar! Everyone’s watching! What will they think? You’re supposed to have his babies!” Katara throws her teacup against the closest cabinet and it joins its companion in shatters on the floor. This time, she does apologize, and Zuko waves a hand because a teapot and a teacup are nothing compared to their conversation.

“So, what,” he ponders. “That scroll was for me, not you, you know. You think it was to ask me to persuade you to go back to him?”

Katara shakes her head. “No, it was probably to ask if you’d seen me.”

And that’s when Zuko puts the pieces together in full.

“Katara, he doesn’t know where you are? The Avatar, who is in love with you, thinks you’re missing? Gods, next thing you know he’ll be bending around the globe looking for you!” He blinks at her. “Tell me at least someone knows you’re safe.”

A soft voice answers him. “He doesn’t love me, Zuko. He doesn’t know what love is.” Zuko closes his eyes. “And I told my father that I was leaving, that’s all. I wrote him and made him swear on my mother not to tell anyone, especially Aang, where I went. But that’s not a problem, really, because I didn’t know where I was going. No one knows I’m here. Not that it will stop Aang from looking, no matter what I want.”

Katara’s gaze flicks down to where their hands are intertwined under the table. She can feel the blood boiling underneath Zuko’s skin, can feel it rushing around his body like a tidal wave, and not only because of her water bending senses, but because of his anger, anger that rises to rival her own, and she is not sure why the thought of Zuko getting angry in her defense makes her heart skip a beat.

“I’ll never tell him,” her friend promises her, giving the demolished scroll from Aang a dark look over his shoulder. “For what he has done to you, I’ll never tell him where you are.” Katara squeezes his hand in appreciation. “You told him what you wanted. You told him to leave you alone. He didn’t listen. That’s not your fault.”

“Thank you, Zuko.”

—————————————————————————————————————

Two days later, a scroll comes in from Hakoda, informing that he may receive a visit from the Avatar, looking for Katara.

—————————————————————————————————————

From there, it’s a waiting game, Katara staring at the sky from her and Zuko’s rooftop spot, and helping the Fire Lord work on his deceptive abilities — with the council members and other world leaders, he is usually fine at keeping his true emotions off of his face, his scowl covering everything else. With his friends, however, and especially to Katara, Zuko has always been an open book. In fact, the pair of them have to let Iroh know what is happening so that they can test Zuko’s lying abilities against someone else, someone who can’t feel Zuko’s pulse in his throat when he’s trying to hide something.

A week goes by before Katara sees the telltale shadow of Appa against the clouds in the sky, and she whistles the signal that she and Zuko had established so that he could hear it even in the middle of a meeting. Before the flying bison and his cargo can come into full view of the Palace, Katara slips off of the rooftop, and returns to her room. She can only hope that Zuko and Iroh will be able to convince Aang that they haven’t seen her.

A not-so-small part of Katara still feels guilt at how she left. She and Aang were friends, after all. Had been. If nothing else, he deserved to hear her say goodbye, right?

She hated that not-so-small part of her, and quashed it under righteous anger. Zuko was right. She’d told him enough. To make it worse, in Katara’s letter to her father, she’d told him to make sure that Aang knew not to look for her. That she needed time to herself. And what did he do? Start scouting the globe for her anyway.

Katara doesn’t realize she’s pacing her room until she trips over the rug and lands flat on her face. The waterbender draws both hands over her face and groans into them.

Then she hears what she’d been afraid of — an all-too-familiar voice in the hallway, joined by Zuko’s as the Fire Lord and the Avatar take a tour around the Palace.

“I’m checking out all of you guys first. I went to the Pole first to see Sokka and her father, and then the Earth Kingdom, and then here. No one has seen Katara, Zuko. I’m worried.”

“I like what you’ve done with the place, Sparky.” _Toph._ Katara’s heart plummets to her center. No one could lie to Toph. As much as she wanted to see the earthbender — had it been a year? More? — Katara had no idea where Toph stood with the Katara-seeking quest Aang had apparently commandeered her for. The master bender could probably feel her heartbeat through the thin wall, and Katara waits for the inevitable.

She is distracted by Zuko’s chuckle outside. “How’d you know we changed anything, Toph?”

“It feels different. Lighter.”

“Come on, Avatar, I’ll show you to your quarters. Even though I haven’t seen Katara, at least stay the night before you continue your journey.” _What the hell is he thinking?_ “And Toph, there’s actually an Ambassador to the Earth Kingdom who was on their way to see you. They’re in that room over there, and I know they’d be grateful to cut a week off of their travels.” _Oh._

“Okay. I’ll catch up with you guys later then. I’ve been itching to yell at an ambassador ever since we got on Appa.”

And Toph knocks on Katara’s door. Luckily, the other girl doesn’t wait for a response before slipping inside, and she doesn’t seem at all surprised at who she feels within. 

“Hey, Jin, it’s been a while, right?” Toph calls out loudly, and they hear Aang and Zuko continue their conversation and move down the hallway. Once they’re out of range, Toph’s demeanor changes. “Now can someone tell me what the hell is happening?”

Katara runs across the room and sweeps Toph up into a hug.

“It’s so good to see you, Toph.” Katara feels a weight lift off of her shoulder, and she’s pleased to realize that she means the words. Where with Zuko, Katara doesn’t want to pretend anymore, and doesn’t have to, with Toph, she can’t, so she doesn’t even try as she squeezes the earthbender tightly.

“Can’t breathe, Princess.” But Toph hugs her back. “I could feel you from the hallway. Your heartbeat’s going a mile a minute. Same with Hotpants. We should be grateful Airboy’s too worked up to notice.” The two girls step back from each other. “Come on. Tell me everything.”

And Katara does, finding it easier to tell Toph now that she has told Zuko. She watches as Toph’s usual scowl turns darker, and again she hits the guilt inside of her with a hammer. The more people who know about this, the more it will change all of their friendships forever, and she doesn’t want that. Katara decides then and there that no one else has to know about the depth of her relationship and lack thereof with Aang. Toph, Zuko, and Iroh are enough, and as much as Katara wants to shout from the rooftops that she will never enter a romantic partnership with Aang, they also cannot afford to ruin the Avatar’s reputation. It is not fair to Katara, but she admits that this is one pretense that they will all have to keep up.

“Honestly, this is ridiculous even for him.” Toph throws up her hands. “He told me you were missing.”

“He did what?”

“And now you’re telling me that your dad knew you were safe this whole time?” Katara nods. “So what, he’s just… ignoring that information? I’ll knock some sense into him—.” Toph stands up, presumably to do just that, but Katara grabs her wrist.

“You can’t, Toph, please.” She knows the earthbender can feel the ball in her throat, the tears threatening to pour out, but Katara doesn’t care.

“You’re scared of him. Katara, you’re scared of Aang.” 

“And I’m scared of what I’ll do to him if he doesn’t leave me alone.” She inhales, letting Toph go and standing up as well. “When I’m with him, I feel like I’m being buried alive. I can’t explain it.”

“It’s okay, Princess. I spent my entire childhood pretending, just like you. I get it.” Katara breathes a sigh of relief. “But someone is going to have to stop Aang. I’ll talk to Zuko and we’ll see what we can do, okay? It turns out we’re quite the pair when we set our minds to something.”

Zuko mentioned Toph came to the Fire Nation far more frequently than the rest of the Avatar support group, but Katara hadn’t put any more thought into it than that. She isn’t surprised that Toph has had to visit more — the Fire Nation damaged every other elemental region, but the Earth cities had a hell of a strong axe to grind, and over the course of the past three years, repairing their relationship had required multiple week-long council meetings and ambassadorial sessions. Katara admitted to herself that both Zuko and Toph had grown up immensely since the war ended. She supposed that now it was her turn to mature.

“Thank you, Toph.” Katara hugged the smaller girl again. 

“Ick, okay, enough with the hugging, that’s your year’s worth. I’d better go catch up with the boys before Zuko runs out of material.” 

Toph waves, leaving Katara alone again in her room with her worries and her thoughts.

—————————————————————————————————————

Once Zuko brings Aang to one of the guest rooms, he spends the rest of his day in meetings, only half paying attention while hoping that he won’t see a rush of air and waterbending out the window. He hadn’t expected Toph to appear alongside the Avatar, but he’s immensely grateful she did — the earthbender had become a fast friend to Zuko, not only because she was the closest distance-wise and visited the most often, but because she too had found herself having nightmares and other struggles following the end of the war, and having this in common had brought the two of them together. Hopefully Toph would be able to help Katara the way she had helped Zuko himself.

After the day is done, Zuko returns to Aang’s room, where the Avatar pours over a collection of maps spread out on the table. Toph lies on the bed nearby, exasperated. All Zuko wants is to run to Katara’s room and protect her, but first, he has deal with the Avatar. Deep down he knows (or hopes he knows) that Aang wouldn’t hurt Katara, physically, but somehow he and Toph have to get through to him that he’s hurting her mentally.

But if he hasn’t realized it yet…

Zuko shakes his head, sitting across from the Avatar. The airbender has grown up, and it’s a shock to him every time, especially now that they’re almost the same height. Aang is bent awkwardly over the table, measuring distances between his fingers and muttering to himself. Toph sits up, sighing in Zuko’s general direction and shrugging. 

“I’m glad we brought in new colors to decorate these guest rooms.”

After so much time with Katara having actual meaningful conversations, Zuko has forgotten how small talk goes. He winces at his own voice in the room, quiet and unsure, and there’s a flash of memory of Ozai screaming at him — _“You’re weak! You are no son of mine!”_ — and it’s only when Toph sits down between him and Aang, poking his hand under the table in her own version of comfort, that he remembers to breathe. Toph coaches him through it, like she used to, tapping on his hand — _one, two, three, four_ — and then pressing hard to get him to exhale, repeating it. She gets him to inhale and exhale at a steady pace again, and her blind eyes see more than any of them give her credit for as she stares in his direction.

The Avatar is oblivious. In so many ways.

Toph begins while Zuko continues to get his bearings.

“So tell me again about your visit to the Southern Pole, Twinkletoes. What exactly did Hakoda say?” Aang looks up from the maps for a second.

“He said he hadn’t heard from her.”

Toph rolls her eyes.

“Honestly, it’s like you know nothing about me. I’m disappointed.”

She can’t see the glare their powerful friend gives her. Zuko restrains himself from growling. Aang doesn’t even have the dignity to look sheepish at being caught in a lie.

“Okay, the chief received a letter from Katara right after she left the Air Temple.” Zuko raises an eyebrow at him.

“Aaaaaaand?”

“And nothing, okay? Nobody knows where Katara is, and I’m worried. Why aren’t you guys freaking out?”

The Fire Lord tastes iron in his mouth and realizes he’s biting his lip so hard that it’s bleeding, keeping himself from spitting out, _Maybe she doesn’t want to be found_ , knowing he owes it to Katara to keep her secrets. He is so lucky that Toph doesn’t have the fire burning within her, instead appearing calm and collected.

That should be his warning.

“So you dragged me away from my _actually important duties_ , tell me one of my best friends is _missing_ , knowing she’s left ON PURPOSE? You convinced me to follow you. Again. All because you’re horny? Twinkletoes, this is low, and I can feel the center of the earth, so that’s saying something.” Toph stands up again, releasing Zuko’s hands under the table (later, he’ll notice the half-moons from where her fingernails dug into his skin to contain her rage). As it is, the ground shakes beneath them, and a gust of wind knocks him in the face as the Avatar rises to meet the earthbender.

Zuko is… in trouble.

“Guys…” he starts, but the two of them don’t notice, bending taking up all of the volume in the room. If he doesn’t do something quick, Aang will go all glowy and then they’ll really be doomed. The curtains are starting to blow around the room and in a moment Zuko is certain that the floor will crack.

There is nothing he can do but step between them, raising one hand to Aang’s face and putting his other on Toph’s arm. 

“That is enough.” The Fire Lord speaks, commanding the two of them to knock it off. He squeezes Toph’s wrist gently. “Are you in control?” 

She nods, but doesn’t lower her bending stance, gesturing at the Avatar. “I’m not the one you should be asking.” And there it is, the Avatar blue, blue that is so different from Katara’s, Zuko notices. Where Katara’s cerulean is soft and oceanic, even in the middle of her fury, Aang’s Avatar hue is frigid and terrifying.

“AANG.” Zuko yells. “AANG, YOU’RE GOING TO HURT SOMEONE!” 

“Something’s wrong with him!” Toph calls out, the noise level rising as the air starts to circle around the Avatar. “His chi is all over the place!”

Before either of them can decide what to do, a deep voice resonates out of Aang’s throat.

“ **We are sorry, grandson. We will take care of him.** ” And the Avatar(s) flash out through the window, far into the sky. Zuko and Toph watch as Aang flies out of sight, and Appa soars through the sky after him. Toph lowers her earth stance and the room settles into place.

“Sometimes I wish I’d never met any of you!” She storms out of the room.

—————————————————————————————————————

Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Iroh sit in one of the most secure council rooms, kept for the meetings for world leaders and ambassadors.

It is fitting for a conversation over whether the Avatar has lost his mind.

Iroh serves the three teenagers tea before sitting down with his own cup across from the others.

“And you heard Avatar Roku’s voice?” He confirms.

“He called me ‘grandson’, Uncle. It must have been him.”

“He also said, ‘we’.” Toph adds. “I think the other Avatars stepped in to stop Aang from going nutso.”

Katara bangs her head onto the table, _not_ gently, and Zuko puts a hand to the back of her head.

“This is all my fault,” she mumbles into the table.

“ _Nonsense_ ,” the other three people in the room respond together. But Katara keeps her head down, keeping calm only thanks to the gentle stroking of Zuko’s hand through her hair. 

“If I had just stayed—.”

“This would have happened sooner or later. I’m glad it happened sooner.” Iroh sips from his tea. Zuko notices all of a sudden that his uncle has lost weight over the past couple of years, and he concludes that it is probably due to worrying over his idiot nephew. “Just look at the three of you. You’ve all had post-war problems. Aang must have his own issues to figure out. The pressure you were all under at such young ages, and the addition of being the Avatar…” The general tuts. “If you throw an apple in the air, you cannot be surprised when it comes down.”

The teenagers glance between them, and then to Iroh.

“What does that one mean, Uncle?”

“I have no idea, I just made it up.” Iroh chuckles, getting up from the table. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an Avatar to chase, a phrase I thought I would never say in earnest.”

“Uncle—.”

“I am sure that the other Avatars are doing their special hocus pocus to get through to the boy, but Aang is still just that; a boy. A boy of fifteen now, if my mathematics is correct. And we all know what Zuko was like when he was fifteen.”

Katara and Toph break out laughing. Zuko’s face flushes with embarrassment.

“Uncle!”

“You were not exactly cute and fluffy, nephew. Aang will need a helping hand. I will send word before my return.”

Iroh leaves to gather supplies and his things, and the girls continue to laugh at the Fire Lord.

“Come on, it’s not that funny.” 

“You weren’t fluffy at all, you were SPIKY!” Toph crows, and she gets up from the table too. “Little Zuko, all bark and no bite, though. I’ll see you two in the morning. Dawn. Don’t be late.”

“Wha—?”

The earthbender is gone preventing Katara from asking questions, still wiping the tears of laughter from her cheeks. She becomes acutely aware that Zuko’s arm is still draped over her shoulder, and apparently he does too because the weight vanishes.

“I kind of thought we were past making fun of what an asshole I used to be.”

Blue eyes catch gold ones and blink at the hurt they see there. Zuko is hurt. _I hurt Zuko. I did that._

A fist clenches around Katara’s heart and she is stumbling away from the table and out of the room before Zuko can stop her.

—————————————————————————————————————

Katara wakes with the weight of a boulder on her chest, and she fights into a defensive state before she realizes that it’s Toph sitting on top of her. As soon as Toph realizes that she’s made a mistake, she rolls off of her friend and gives her space.

“Easy, Sugar Queen.” She talks quietly until Katara pulls herself together. “I should have known better, that was my fault. You’d think I would have learned from the time Zuko almost burned me to a crisp… Twice.” Her chest still heaving, the waterbender just stares at the blind girl, who holds a hand out to her. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Katara doesn’t bother changing out of her nightclothes, the light layers enough for her lately as the weather has started to heat up. Toph is dressed similarly, but in the traditional earth colors, while Katara wears black like Zuko. She never felt comfortable in the crimson robes that the pair have rid themselves of, but she can’t bring herself to wear her Water Tribe blues either, so when Zuko had his new outfits commissioned, she asked for a couple for herself. Without another word, Toph drags her out of the room.

On the way to wherever they’re going, Toph explains. “The first time I came here after the coronation was for some ambassador meeting or something, I can’t remember. But I woke up in the middle of the night to Zuko screaming. I thought he was being assassinated or something, so I busted into his room, but he was only in the middle of a nightmare. I say ‘only’, but…” The earthbender shakes her head. “Anyway, it was bad. I’ve had them, I can’t judge. I can only say that I think his were worse than I ever had.” 

When Katara realizes where they’re going, she knows that Toph can feel her heart freeze and threaten to shatter in a thousand pieces. She tightens her grip on Katara’s hand in support.

“Do you trust me, Katara?”

“You know I do.”

“That’s what Zuko said the first time.” She continues speaking. Katara has to force her feet to keep moving forward. “My parents, bless their misguided and old-fashioned hearts, tried to get me to learn a bunch of different lady-like hobbies growing up. Calligraphy, weaving, you name it, I tried it. And no, calligraphy did not go well, thanks for asking.” Katara had been wondering. “The one thing that I did pick up was meditating. I found that it really helped my bending, and it kept me from breaking the house into a million pieces whenever my parents were being particularly difficult.”

They’re almost there.

“After the war, I had to meditate almost two hours a day to keep all of my thoughts in order. We’d been through so much. I had nightmares too. Intrusive thoughts. When I started meditating, it made everything so much easier. It won’t solve everything, but it might help.”

“You taught Zuko too?”

“Yeah. He told me he kept waking up in the middle of the night lighting the ceiling on fire, so I figured, it can’t get any worse than that!”

Katara pauses in the hallway, their destination in sight. She scrambles for some excuse, something to delay.

“I’ve never heard you sound so grown up, Toph. When did that happen?”

She shrugs. “War will do that to you, I guess. At least I had some time to be a kid. You and Zuko, and the others, never really got that chance.” Toph takes another step forward, trying to pull Katara with her and finding resistance. “Let me take care of you now, Katara, the way you and Zuko took care of us all back then.”

The waterbender closes her eyes and lets herself be tugged to the one place she hasn’t returned to in three years, since the night it happened.

Another hand on her arm alerts her to Zuko’s presence, his voice soft in the early morning hours. 

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

She hears him suck in a breath and hold it. Toph lets go of her so that it is only Zuko, She wants to reach out for additional stability, but finds more Zuko. He’s standing directly in front of her, she realizes, because this is their place; this is the moment they don’t talk about, have never told anyone about. Obviously he’s told Toph, and she can’t fault him for that. If Zuko was struggling, Katara is glad their friend was there to guide him through it, but call her a coward, she’s not as strong as Zuko is.

“Katara, open your eyes.”

His hands are on her shoulders now, and Katara wants to look up into the fierce loyalty she knows she’ll see written across his face, but—

“I can’t.”

“Okay. Let’s sit down.” The pair of them lower to the ground and Katara can sense Toph still nearby, but giving them their privacy. “Did Toph tell you?”

“Some. The basics. But not—.” She’s ashamed of the way her voice shakes. “Not why _here._ ”

_Agni Kai._ The place where Zuko fought his sister for the last time. Where he had taken lightning. For _her_. Where they’d almost lost him. 

“This is where all of the nightmares take place. Toph said I had to conquer that, and that I wouldn’t be able to put them behind me if I couldn’t even walk through the courtyard.”

“Ah.” She doesn’t comment that all of her nightmares stem from this place as well, because of course he already knows. It’s Zuko. “Can’t we just remake this place, like with the rest of the palace?”

Zuko’s grip, his hands now wrapped around her wrists, twists.

“Not for a second. I don’t want to forget it.”

Katara is walking on a high-wire, teetering off the edge, arms flailing for balance. 

“Why?” she whispers.

“You know why.” Zuko’s voice is dark and low now, and Katara full-body _shudders_ , back arching.

Like he’s pressed something deep in her mind, the entire night plays out, the way it so often does in her dreams and nightmares. In her dreams, the events of the Agni Kai happens exactly as they did in real life. In her nightmares, Katara doesn’t get to Zuko in time, doesn’t bloodbend Azula away from him before she sends another bolt of lightning straight through his heart and kills him. Sometimes she can’t remember what really happened and what is only in her mind to torture her.

Zuko senses the change in her posture.

“What do you see, Katara?”

“You. Always you. Jumping in front of me.”

_Fear._

“It should have been me, Zuko, I should have taken that hit and you would have dealt with Azula like you were meant to.”

_Guilt._

“She almost killed you and I have never wanted to break somebody apart into tiny pieces. I should have ripped her throat out for hurting you.”

_Rage._

“Your body splayed out on the ground like a puppet, strings cut. Eyes closed. Back twisted.”

_Despair._

“I felt the life leave your body like the wind through the trees. Felt your blood flow slow under your skin.”

_Emptiness._

“She laughed at your corpse. I wanted to die. I wanted her to die.”

_Pain._

“When I bended water around her as chains, I thought about twisting them around her throat, of drowning her beneath the tide. Sometimes I do it. Sometimes I kill her.”

_Inevitability._

“I spend hours trying to bring you back. You die anyway. You leave me alone.”

_Death._

Katara opens her eyes.

—————————————————————————————————————

The first thing she sees is the completely open expression on Zuko’s face, his eyes filled with tears that spill down his cheeks unheeded. His entire body has gone slack in awe, and his neck is craned upwards, staring at something over Katara’s shoulder. 

When she glances at Toph, the earthbender is in a similar position, looking around wildly at something she can feel, but can’t see.

Then Katara sees what has caught them so unawares.

Around the courtyard, a large quantity of water has surrounded the three benders, walling off the Agni Kai area. The tsunami-like force towers over the roof nearby, at least ten feet tall and then some, standing tall and ready to defend any incoming threats. There are none, but in Katara’s state of vulnerability, her bending has manifested on its own again, trying to protect her from the nightmares she vocalizes.

“I don’t know what’s happening, but I know it’s amazing!” Toph calls to her friends, and Katara quickly moves the water away from the buildings and into the closest stream. A couple of the Palace’s servants stare out doorways and windows, jaws dropped open, but when they notice Katara looking back at them, apologetic, they retreat back inside, leaving the master benders to whatever they are doing.

Zuko draws an arm across his face to dry his tears before taking Katara’s hands in his again. And there it is, that _look_ , that look he gives her like he’s staring at the stars in the sky and not Katara’s face, that “I would die for you” face.

“Stop that.” She wipes away a stray tear from under his scarred eye and keeps her hand there, his skin warm with the rising sun. 

Katara can’t look away from the golden eyes blinking back at her.

“I would do it all again, in a heartbeat,” he whispers fiercely.

“I wish you wouldn’t.”

“You would have done it for me.”

“Of course.”

Zuko turns his face, just the slightest bit to the side, and his lips brush up against Katara’s hand, his eyes never leaving hers.

_Oh._

The ocean swirling around Katara’s center threatens to crash upon the shore, because this all feels just. so. inevitable. 

A long time ago, she’d started calling the Fire Lord “her Zuko” in the privacy of her own head. Tried her best not to think about what that meant. Tried not to think about the heat she could always feel roiling under Zuko’s skin when they touched. Tried not to think about the moon and the sun, the water and the flames, tried to convince herself that the bond she and Zuko shared was platonic.

But it is no accident that Appa brought Katara to the Fire Nation. To him.

Carefully, Zuko’s hand covers Katara’s on his face, and she draws his hand to her own lips, oh so gently.

A warmth Katara hasn’t felt in a long, long time blooms in her heart at the hope that sprawls across Zuko’s face, and a genuine smile finds its way onto the waterbender’s features.

“You’re doing a brilliant job of replacing the bad memories already,” she murmurs, and Zuko grins in response. Through their touch she can feel his heart beating like a drum, like it’s trying to break out of his chest, and the warmth within her kindles into a bonfire.

“Okay, this is cute and gross and all, but you two have paced around each other for years. You can wait a little longer. Can we get back to business?” But Toph is smiling like an idiot too, glad that her two best friends have finally started to get their act together. “At least I win the bet with Iroh.”

She only just manages to block the water Katara sends at her with a rock pillar.

—————————————————————————————————————

Two hours later, and Katara feels like she’s floating. Toph walks her through some preliminary mediating techniques, and it is like she is learning a new form of bending from scratch, focusing on her breathing techniques and her stance. She forgot what it felt like to dedicate time to herself, so busy throughout her entire life helping and supporting others. Teaching herself waterbending had been the first time she allowed herself to do something on her own, and though it was never easy, it was gratifying. 

Now, hand in hand with Zuko, it all comes back to her, the early mornings, the late nights, completely alone and at peace. Solitude had long since become a waking nightmare, but being able to feel the heartbeats of her friends nearby puts her more at ease than she could ever put into words.

Toph flexes her toes, the soles of her feet dirty and rough, and rolls her way vertical, stretching out her back. She hadn’t flinched through the entire session, and spent half of the time flicking Katara’s knee every time the waterbender squirmed. 

“You did well, for your first time.” Katara preens at the compliment. “Much better than Sparky here.”

“Hey, give me a break. I’ve never been good at one-on-one learning.”

And both girls know he’s thinking of Ozai again. 

Toph holds up her hands.

“I have a meeting to attend, and so does Zuko, but I’ll go on ahead and leave you lovebirds alone before I throw up.” She squeezes Katara’s arm one last time. “Same time tomorrow?”

Katara nods and the earthbender makes her escape into the Palace, and the two older teenagers are left together again.

True to Zuko’s form, his awkward levels have completely returned, and he is rubbing the back of his neck with his hand and looking around the courtyard. Katara does the same, noticing how different the place feels after their meditation.

“I can look around without feeling like a knife is shooting through my heart. That’s good.” Katara takes a step away from the Fire Lord and starts to walk around the courtyard, retracing her steps from that night. She is still barefoot from waking up, and the cobblestones under her feet are warming under the sun’s rays. Her legs carry her to every significant spot from the Agni Kai, and at every one, Katara imagines herself releasing the terrible emotions that have plagued her ever since. Where they met Azula. Where Katara chased the fire bending princess and almost took a different path. 

Finally, Katara stands in the spot where Zuko was struck down for her. She bends down and traces the outline of where she can still see the younger version of the Fire Lord, broken and hurt. When she stands again, Zuko is standing behind her.

“Do you know what I remember the most from that night?” He draws Katara close, curling his arms around her so that he’s hugging her from behind.

“No.”

“Most of it is a blur, really. Azula cursing at me, fire everywhere, you calling my name.” Zuko twists her around so that they are facing each other, and he caresses Katara’s face with one thumb. “What I remember, crystal clear, is you bent over me, crying. Thinking, ‘Way to go, Zuko, you’ve made Katara sad, again.’”

The waterbender laughs, though there are a flurry of emotions flowing through her. 

“We never make things easy, Zuko.”

“So let’s make this easy.”

When Zuko bends in to kiss her, Katara meets him halfway, arms wrapped around his neck and hands threading through his hair. He lifts her off the ground and twirls the waterbender in circles, the joy on his face unmistakable. It’s the happiest Zuko has felt in ages, and Katara understands.

They have to come up for air at some point, and when Zuko pulls back reluctantly Katara chases his mouth, refusing to relinquish her hold on him.

“I have a meeting.” He kisses her chastely again, groaning when Katara tries to deepen it into something more. “ _Katara._ ” Zuko can’t let her go either, until he closes her eyes and literally pushes her away, hands still clutching her shoulders, disobeying.

“You’re going to have to wipe that grin off your face or the council members will think there’s something wrong with you.”

“Come on, I don’t sulk _that_ much!” She kisses him one last time and then shoves him lightly in the direction of the palace. “Go on. Before I change my mind.”

To make her laugh, Zuko puts on his best scornful appearance and slumps towards the doorway. He pauses, considering something, and then runs back towards Katara, sweeping her up in his arms again and kissing her soundly. When he puts her down again, she’s out of breath.

“Been wanting to do that for ages,” he grumbles under his breath before leaving for real. 

And Katara thinks for the first time that maybe, everything really will be okay.


End file.
